


What To Do About Danvers?

by Magik3



Series: Jen/Marie [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/F, Girl Penis, Some other tags, Trans, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magik3/pseuds/Magik3
Summary: Jen Walters (Hulk) and Anna Marie (Rogue) have been living together for a while when Carol Danvers comes to them with a problem: her Kree DNA has created a ... curious new mutation. Marie and Jen might not know what to do about it, but they have some ideas for what to do with it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This follows my Hulk Knows fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14052453). I wanted to keep that more in the domain of cute & pure, but I also wanted to play with the intersection of G!P tropes with a more realistic trans woman experience. Also Danvers with Kree space junk just makes me smile.

Our apartment didn't have a lot of rooms, because all the rooms had to be big. When Carol had arrived, about five minutes ago, saying she had some kind of emergency, and swept Marie into the bedroom for privacy, I'd determined to ignore the flurry of furious whispering.  
  
After fifteen minutes, I was still trying not to eavesdrop, but it was hard. I had pretty great hearing, from persistently working at eavesdropping on opposing counsel. Plus Carol was one of my best friends, but the connection she had with Marie was something else entirely and I was curious. They’d been inside each other’s minds so completely. Plus today seemed unusual.  
  
I stayed focused on my reading, until I heard Marie's voice, low and wary, ask, “Did you come here because you think _I_ did this to you?”  
  
Carol yelped, “No! Anna Marie, it’s bright blue. It’s obviously Kree. Probably Mar-Vell’s DNA. I came here because I figured you wouldn’t laugh at me.”  
  
“Oh I’m not laughing, Sugar, but would it be wrong if I said that looks good on you?”  
  
“Um…”  
  
Now I had to see what they were talking about! I went to the bedroom doorway. Carol had her pants open and there was indeed something very blue that I’m pretty sure, based on her uniform design, had not been part of her body even a few days ago—unless Carol knew a lot more about tucking than I had.  
  
“New mutation?” I asked.  
  
She pulled her pants closed quickly, but they wouldn't close all the way. Her new addition must've gotten bigger in the last few minutes. Was that from Carol’s proximity to Marie or from the fact of showing this off? We’d need a little testing to find out.  
  
“We’ve seen each other in a lot of different … situations,” I told Carol. “You can show me. I’m not going to laugh either.”  
  
Carol sighed and let her pants fall open and … damn but that was impressive. Not foolishly huge, though. And phallic in a way that looked curiously non-human.  
  
“Is that what Kree business looks like?” Marie said.  
  
“Business? Honestly?” Carol asked her.  
  
“She was going to say ‘litigation’ but that just gets confusing around here. So, Kree genitals?” I asked, waving at the part of Carol that clearly fit that description.  
  
“Some, yes. They have more variation than humans. This is within normal Kree parameters.” Carol got more formal and a lot cuter when she was uncomfortable.  
  
“When did this happen?” Marie asked.  
  
“It started weeks ago, maybe more. I was busy, ignored it, and then last night it took a leap forward and I couldn’t anymore.”  
  
“Some leap,” Marie said. “Can I have a closer look?  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
Marie got off the bed and knelt in front of Carol, putting her hands on Carol’s legs to steady herself. This made the Kree member of the party fill out a bit more and rise toward full attention.  
  
I wanted to say: _oh look, you’ve already taught him to salute_. But I was afraid that counted as laughing. Also I wasn’t sure that “him” was the right pronoun, despite the very phallic nature of this.  
  
And I figured I should keep Carol talking, therefore distracted. I crossed the back half of the room to an armchair, sat demurely and asked, “Kree have more frequent and pronounced genital variations than humans?”  
  
“Yes. I believe this is actually—it doesn’t translate into any human language that I know very well so I just call it configuration two.”  
  
“Of how many?” I asked.  
  
Marie, much quieter asked, “Sugar, can I touch you? I just want to see how this is all wired up.”  
  
Carol nodded, but she was starting to look pained. In a super cute way. And configuration two was definitely on his/her/their way to being a brave and very rigid little soldier.  
  
Marie touched Carol’s skin around the base, pressing lightly. Carol closed her eyes for a bit, but managed to say, “As far as I know, there are seven common Kree configurations. Four are reproductive and three are non-reproductive, but of course you can use the reproductive ones for social purposes too if you want.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” I said as I crossed my legs and put on my court face. I had to play this pretty seriously if I wanted Carol to go on talking while sporting a stunning blue erection and trying to ignore Marie’s fingers. “And you think this is number two, are they pretty distinct?”  
  
“Some,” Carol said, swallowing hard.  
  
Marie said, “Could you widen your legs just a little? Here, step out of your boots.”  
  
She got Carol’s boots off and her pants off so that Carol was just in a gray military-style t-shirt and bra, bare from the waist down, and the bra was not at all disguising how hard her nipples had gotten.  
  
I looked at Marie, wondering if we were bad people for doing this. She caught my eye and winked. I bit my tongue to keep from grinning. She’d been in Carol’s mind so she knew what she was doing. Plus nothing stopped Carol from turning around and walking out. She was still only a few feet inside the open bedroom doorway. And, after all, she could fly. But she did not look like she had any intention of walking out or flying away.  
  
Probably this was the only way she could let her little soldier get the kind of care that was warranted—and probably Marie knew this.  
  
I asked my question again, to distract Carol from how half-naked she was, “How distinct are the different Kree genitals?”  
  
“There are two configurations for large gametes, what humans might call ‘eggs’: one is a lot like a vagina and the other allows a person to give their large gametes to another. It’s somewhat like this but with a different pattern and not as thick.”  
  
“Mmhm.”  
  
“And two for small gametes, one with a vagina and uterus, and one without.”  
  
Marie sat back on her heels, which didn’t put her very far from Carol. “So if I did clumsily translate that, you’re saying: eggs and gestation, eggs and phallus, sperm and phallus, sperm with phallus and gestation?”  
  
“That’s a gross oversimplification,” Carol said.  
  
“Roll with it,” Marie insisted. “What are the other three? Or, more importantly, what’s this one for?”  
  
Carol stared studiously across the room at the wall, not down at Marie crouched at her feet. “I’m not completely sure if it’s two or five, because I still have most of my human parts. So it could be five.”  
  
“Does size make a difference in the determination?” I asked in my most neutral voice. “Because if we needed to take measurements—for science—now seems like an ideal time.”  
  
“For science,” Marie said with a smirk.  
  
Carol didn’t protest, so I went to my dresser and got the cloth measuring tape. I handed it all to Marie and went to stand behind Carol. I got the feeling that in the near future she might need some help staying on her feet.  
  
“Just relax,” Marie said, which of course was impossible for Carol at this point. She vibrated with the effort of standing still. Her little soldier stood stiffly out from her body, curving slightly up, a vibrant blue, not as smooth as a human penis, especially on top where there were swells or nubs.  
  
“Let’s see, circumference first?” Marie asked.  
  
“Seems wise,” I said.  
  
She put one end of the measuring tape at the base and slowly wrapped it around until it met up. “Two and three-quarters, Jen remember that, okay? I want to get the tip before anything changes.”  
  
“Got it,” I told her.  
  
Carol was shaking. I moved closer, so that our bodies barely touched, and put my hands on her hips to steady her. She leaned back against me just a little. Not enough to put her weight on me.  
  
I watched over her shoulder as Marie unwrapped the measuring tape from the base.  
  
“Okay if I touch you?” she asked.  
  
“Yes,” Carol said, a bit crisp, that military training coming through.  
  
“Let’s see, hard to tell where to measure. What are these rises for?”  
  
“Display,” Carol said roughly.  
  
“Well that’s interesting. I think maybe right here, Jen, behind this first rise?”  
  
“There’s not space in front of it?” I asked, although I could see that there wasn’t.  
  
“I’ll try,” Marie said. The sides of her mouth were working to keep her smile in. She went to the tip, where it just started to broaden and wrapped the tape around. Of course the tape slipped off and she tried again, a few times.  
  
We both pretended to ignore how hard Carol was breathing, how her arms had gone rigid at her sides, how she was swaying on her feet—forward and backward, like she was trying to get even closer to Marie and forcing herself away again—how her hips had started to rock with microscopic thrusts.  
  
I was so wet it was getting uncomfortable, but in the best way. I moved a half inch closer to Carol, pressed my hips against the curve of her ass. She shifted backwards an even smaller fraction of distance, but the tiny motions of her hips meant she was rubbing very faintly against me.  
  
“You’re doing great,” I said. “You can relax. We’ll figure this out.”  
  
Her hands closed over my wrists, helping to hold herself up on me.  
  
Marie said, “I’m going to have to hold you steady,” and wrapped her hand around the thick, blue shaft. She used her thumb to hold the measuring tape in place and wrapped it around. “A little over two and a quarter,” she reported, putting her face close to the numbers on the tape. Carol had to be feeling Marie’s breath, warm on that aching blue skin. “Two and five sixteenths.”  
  
A dense drop of blue liquid came out of the tip and hung, too thick to fall. Marie touched it, pulled her finger away and looked at the heavy blueness—like paint but thicker, in a hue that interior designers would have called “Wide Sky” or, since this was Carol, “Cosmic Cobalt.”  
  
“Well now that’s real pretty,” Marie said.  
  
I’d been trying to come up with some important reason to put my hands on Carol’s breasts … for science. And I had nothing. So I just moved them up under her shirt and put them over her bra. She let go of my wrists and reached back to hold my hips, finally sinking more of her weight against me.  
  
Since she hadn’t protested, I tugged her bra straps down, pulled her bra down and put my hands over her breasts, playing back and forth between their fullness and the hard nipples.  
  
“Almost there,” Marie said. “Just have to get the length, maybe both sides, to make sure we get it right.”  
  
She put one hand at the base to anchor the measuring tape and stretched it out. Carol was losing control by millimeters. She had her head back against my shoulder, the thrusts of her hips small but obvious, and this made the measuring tape slip around, though I think Marie was also dropping the end of it on purpose, so she’d have to stretch it out again and again, her fingers going along the straining shaft.  
  
I saw what Carol meant about display: the nubs on the top had become more defined as everything looked more and more swollen. More drops of blue slipped out from the tip. Marie put her thumb there and rubbed them around, working the glistening blue wetness down the shaft. It was a little lighter than the skin itself and made beautiful patterns around the nubs and textures.  
  
“Almost there,” Marie said, softly. “I can’t quite read this.”  
  
She has great vision. She absolutely could read it—could’ve read the measuring tape from across the room—but that wasn’t the point. She put her face very close to the end of the thick, straining phallus.  
  
“Do you think I measure to the very tip?” she asked.  
  
“Of course,” I told her, grinning. Since Carol had her eyes closed, Marie flashed a beautiful grin back at me. Who knew that teasing the daylights out of Carol Danvers would be such an engaging couples project?  
  
She wrapped the tape across the tip as more drops of blue leaked out, gathering together to drip down onto Marie’s shirt. She glanced down at the spreading drops of blue on her shoulder and unbuttoned her shirt.  
  
“Dry clean only,” she said, still grinning, and slipped her shirt off. Today’s bra was one of my favorites: white and mostly mesh with little tracings of white and silvery lace around the edges. Marie folded her shirt and set it well to the side, then returned to slipping the measuring tape back and forth across the top of Carol’s throbbing little soldier.  
  
Marie said, “Lord, it’s so slippery, I don’t know if I can do this.”  
  
“Maybe I should help you hold it steady,” I told her.  
  
“Would you, Darlin’? I’d appreciate it.”  
  
I reached down, around Carol’s hip and wrapped my hand around her shaft. It was so hard, pulsing, the skin feeling stretched. My fingers fit in the dips of between the swollen nubs.  
  
“Wait, Sugar, let me get the tape under your hand,” Marie said.  
  
I opened my fingers and she lay the tape there, with a lot of stroking to make sure it was really flat. Then she closed my fingers and planted a little kiss on the tip of my index finger.  
  
I was on the verge of coming despite hardly being touched and that little, delicate kiss almost put me over. I didn’t know how Carol had managed to hold out this long. Marie has incredibly deft fingers—which she now applied to the tip, pretending to wrap the tape over it when really she was slipping it around in the blue wetness, stroking the tip and the inch that extended beyond my hand.  
  
Carol groaned, letting me take more of her weight. Her back arched, I felt her shaft pulsing, a long releasing contraction inside her body. The shaft twitched up. A blue stream arced out from the tip, spraying across my bed. I pushed down, directing her so she came in a thick gush across Marie’s breasts.  
  
Marie, being a genius, held her breasts together and up, and Carol, having opened her eyes when she started to come, watched herself streaming onto Marie’s breasts, wet blue soaking the white lace and mesh, dripping down the curving sides, outlining her nipples and the tightness of her areolas.  
  
Carol made a sound of surprise, dismay, joy and put her hand over mine. More contractions, a second stream, then small pulses, muscles inside her still clenching and releasing. Either that was one really long orgasm, or she was coming again, could come again, body wracked with pleasure, bursts of wet landing on Marie’s skin.  
  
I held her up, one arm wrapped around her under her breasts, and moved my fingers along her shaft, feeling the weight still in it, the need, slowly milking out a few final spasms and then the drips. Marie rubbed the blue not-paint across her breasts, spreading some down her belly.  
  
Marie stood up, took Carol’s face in her hands and kissed her. Carol’s arms went around her. I still had one hand on the now-softening little soldier, that I’d pointed upward when Marie stood, so my hand rested against Marie’s lower belly, pressed between her bare skin and Carol’s hot length. I moved my other hand to Marie’s hip, keeping us all connected. Resting my cheek on the back of Carol’s shoulder, I rested against the soft, sweet movements of the two of them kissing.  
  
They should’ve done this years ago. I felt the tension and need in Carol, how much she’d wanted Marie, maybe since the first time they fought, and how much she never let herself feel that. And the love and gratitude Marie had for her—that of all the minds she’d touched, the one that she’d taken most completely, the one that nearly overwhelmed her, had been as well-tended, as strong and gentle as Carol’s.  
  
After a while they paused to catch their breaths and I pulled away. “I really need about a gallon of sports drink,” I said. “You all want some.”  
  
“Please,” Marie said. She still had her hands at the sides of Carol’s face. She looked down at her bra, soaked blue, smiled at me over Carol’s shoulder and said, “I bet this blue would look so pretty on a green background.”  
  
I stepped to the side, touched her chin to turn her face to me, and kissed her. Before leaving the room, I pressed my lips to Carol’s cheek.  
  
I said, “I bet it would.”


	2. Chapter 2

We all fit in the bed but it didn't make for the easiest sleep. Carol talked in her sleep. I got up early and went into my home office to work. I almost never work in there because it's small, but it seemed right, in case Carol and Marie wanted the living room for talking.  
  
After a while, Marie came in with the half-filled coffee pot and refilled my mug.  
  
"Carol?" I asked.  
  
"She left to go somewhere and think for a while. This is … not something she's good at processing."  
  
"Which part of this?"  
  
"Me, for sure,” she said with a little laugh. “And you somewhat. Definitely that we're both women and I don't think she's been with women before. If she did it wasn't for long and for sure she wasn't sporting a Kree … situation."  
  
"We need a better word than …"  
  
"Staff Sergeant?" Marie asked with a smirk.  
  
"Did you read my mind?"  
  
"Your face. Your lips do a thing when you think of something funny and can't say it. I figured, given what you were staring at just then, it was probably a military title joke."  
  
"Little soldier," I told her.  
  
"Oh lord, that's priceless. Damn, now I'm going to think that."  
  
"I don't know, Staff Sergeant is very apt. Otherwise all I'm thinking is eggplant."  
  
"I wonder what the Kree say. Or would that be unpronounceable?"    
  
"Is she coming back?" I asked. "I'm honestly kind of worried for her."  
  
"This is not the biggest change she's been through, but it definitely won't read as well on Earth as most of her others.” She sighed and looked through the open doorway. “I’m a little worried too, but I think I’ll know if it’s too tough for her. I did text Sasquatch to check on her. Just told him it was girl stuff and make sure she was okay.”  
  
“Smart,” I said. “He won’t ask for details if it’s girl stuff, right?”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
She leaned against my desk and sipped her coffee for a bit. I pretended to read email while I watched her think. I understood people pretty well, having to defend them in court, but she had the inside view on so many different minds that she was way beyond me.  
  
“She’ll be okay,” Marie said finally. “When she sorts herself out, if she comes back …”  
  
“Are you asking if I want to do it again?"  
  
Marie nodded.  
  
"Can I give a contingent yes?" I asked.  
  
"Contingent on?"  
  
"You wanting it slightly more than I do."  
  
She startled and stared at me, a slow grin on her mouth. “Because you like getting girls all hot and bothered? It's a thing?"  
  
"Very much."  
  
"Well then yes, I think maybe we should.”  
  
“For science?” I suggested.  
  
She bent down and kissed me. I pulled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her, rested my head on her shoulder.  
  
“You know Carol isn't going to just let herself join in with us,” she said. “We're going to have to come up with something. A premise. She needs an excuse. Needs us to set it up so she can play along and get drawn in."  
  
I thought for a while and said, "Unless she knows a lot more than I did or wants to make some radical wardrobe changes, she's going to need a lesson in tucking."  
  
"Ooh, Sugar, I like how you think. You realize the minute we get talking about it, it's going to get harder and harder to tuck. Literally."  
  
I reached around Marie, pulled my laptop closer and searched the phrase "how to hide a boner."  
  
"I'd better read up," I said.  
  
She turned enough toward the screen to read with me. "We should get her to try that one," she said, pointing. "But she's going to need the right underpants. Maybe we should go shopping."  
  
"We should always go shopping. Plus you need a new white bra, your last one turned all blue.”  
  
*  
  
Carol came back. She went into the bedroom with Marie and "questions." I didn't bother trying to read, but I kept a book open in front of me for plausible deniability. I even made sure it was right-side up.  
  
Marie, who's a darling, left the bedroom door open. Carol did not realize, or at least did not let on that she did, that she and Marie and the mirror were all visible through the door from where I was sitting.  
  
At first Carol stood and Marie sat on the bed, saying, "Of course I can teach you. I'll be easy since you don't have balls, or whatever those are on a Kree. I picked you up some underwear to try. It really helps hold everything in place." (She didn't add that she'd "picked it up" from Hank.)  
  
"All right," Carol said in her all-business voice. I put my hand over my mouth in a thoughtful (totally not laughing) pose in case she turned around and saw me. Wouldn't do to have her see me on the edge of giggling about how cute Captain Danvers got when she was trying to act serious and take off her pants at the same time.  
  
Especially when she got her pants off and she was commando because she no longer fit in her girl panties or whatever she wore—and that length of deep blue flopped out in front of her. Mostly soft, definitely was not the biggest I'd seen, but it had a very nice presence. Maybe that was the blue color. Or the fact of Carol.  
  
I have always liked her. Didn’t think it was the kind of like that translated into “and could you take your pants off?” but now it was. It wouldn’t have been without Marie on the edge of giggly and trying to act serious.  
  
Marie handed her the boyshorts from Hank. "Now step into these and pull them partway up, but not the whole way."  
  
Carol did, pausing with them just above her knees.  
  
"You're going to pull … do you think of this as 'him' or 'her' or something else?" Marie asked.  
  
"Honestly: her. Is that wrong?”  
  
“There is no ‘wrong,’ Sugar. It’s whatever works for you. Do you have a name you use?"  
  
Carol turned very red. "Just … dick, I guess."  
  
"Well now you can call her anything you like, so you have something else in mind."  
  
"Leading edge was all I came up with so far," she said.  
  
"That’s some part of a jet, isn’t it?“ Marie asked and Carol nodded. Marie said, "Great. So what you're going to do is take your edge and pull her back between your legs and push her up against your skin."  
  
Carol started, but Marie got off the bed, saying, "Sugar, it'll fit better if you pull on her a little. Do you want my help?"  
  
Carol nodded, her face a mask of innocence. Too much innocence. She was definitely on to us. And she was going to play along. I went into the kitchen for a glass of water, then casually leaned on the counter, pretending to read a legal journal, but watching avidly.  
  
Marie turned Carol toward the mirror. "See we're going to give her a tug so she sits back further."  
  
She wrapped her fingers around Carol's shaft and pulled gently, moving it all back between Carol's legs.  
  
"Now pull up your panties," Marie said and Carol did. "See, she's tucked in all cozy."  
  
Of course she brilliantly ran her fingers down between Carol's legs as she said that, stroking along the thickening length.  
  
"Sugar, I think you're getting a little hard. That's nothing to worry about. This being new and all, you probably have some teenaged-style hormones going. You might find yourself popping a boner for all kinds of reasons."  
  
Carol was standing in a military "at ease" pose that didn't look so different from "at attention," while her new acquisition kept growing because Marie hadn't stopped touching.  
  
She was standing mostly behind Carol, somewhat to the side so that Carol could see herself in the mirror. Marie stroked the tips of her fingers down from the base where it had started to bulge in the front of Carol's underpants all the way down to between Carol's legs.  
  
Carol still had all her human anatomy too, which meant that her "edge" was pressing against her labia or, more likely, between them. Did she still get wet human-style? Or had that turned blue also? Was she lubricating her own dick? I really wanted to find out, but I stayed leaned against the counter, watching. The mirror was at an angle so Carol couldn't easily see me, but Marie glanced back over her shoulder and saw me. She raised her eyebrows. I nodded, grinning at her.  
  
"Now, these underpants are designed to help you hide your boner," Marie told Carol. "As you can see, the harder you get, the more you're going to fill out the front here." She paused and rubbed that widening bulge. "You can keep tucking it back more, especially if you can put something over it, like a book or your bag. We'll just pretend my hand is your purse, all right? So you'd press it down like this."  
  
She pressed gently but firmly, let up the tension, pressed again. Carol was squirming. Marie must've also realized that Carol's hardening shaft was between her own labia, all of that sensitive skin rubbing together had to be maddening—and by pressing and releasing, Marie was making sure it rubbed as much as possible: Carol's hard edge sliding back and forth between her lips.  
  
Carol was definitely getting harder—so much so that the tip pushed at the fabric between her legs.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think, why, you're all rubbing yourself this way aren't you? Lord and if you were sitting, this would be mighty distracting. We’re going to have to find another way.” Marie looked at me, her hand still over Carol’s dick, still rubbing with light, encouraging strokes. “Sugar, do you mind if I tag Jen in on this? She did some research.”  
  
Carol’s voice came out rough as she asked, “Science?”  
  
“Something like that.”  
  
“Yes, fine.” The words themselves were brusque, but her breathy tone sounded just the right amount of needy to propel me into the bedroom.  
  
I fit myself behind Carol, hands on the outside of her hips to steady her. Marie reached over Carol’s shoulder and stroked my cheek. “What are you thinking, love? How would you deal with this?”  
  
“Twelve o’clock position,” I suggested. “You know, start out tucked but if she starts getting hard, put something in front, like a book or a clipboard, go to the bathroom and reposition.”  
  
“Perfect,” Marie said. She tucked her fingers under the waistband of Carol’s underpants and asked, “May I?”  
  
Carol nodded. She was staring back and forth from her reflection in the mirror down to Marie's hand.  
  
“You're going to direct her straight up,” Marie instructed. She slid her hand slowly into Carol's underpants, down along the length of the shaft, fingers curling around it. "Oh, you're all wet down here. You still get wet like a human too, don't you?"  
  
Carol nodded.  
  
"And you got your edge all wet already. Well that's not going to make it easy on you, is it. No wonder you're getting so hard. And you do get hard, don't you? Oh I'm sorry, I shouldn't say that it's just this feels really good … anyway, you take it in your hand like this and go like a clock hand, right or left doesn't matter, pull it to the side and then point it straight up your belly. This is really effective if you're in a long shirt or sweater, comes right down over it.”  
  
“Like this,” I said and reached one hand around Carol’s waist to put my palm over the head where it pushed against the waistband. “See, covered. Now there is another option I liked.”  
  
“How do you know this?” Carol asked me.  
  
“Videos,” I said. “Marie and I were comparing notes and I have more experience with hard dicks than she does.”  
  
“I like girls better,” Marie said, making a flirty-eyed smirk at me over Carol’s shoulder. “And Jen loves getting people really hard or wet or swollen or whatever their business can do.”  
  
As she talked, Marie unbuttoned Carol’s crisp shirt and spread it open. I tried my best to ignore some of the stroking and teasing she was doing to Carol’s abs, sides, breasts, collarbones, so that I could keep my mind on my role here.  
  
I told Carol, “Let me show you this other option. Remember when Marie was bringing you up like a clock hand? You can stop at the three o'clock or nine o'clock position,  going off to the side, and the fabric of this will keep it against your body.”  
  
I slid my hand into her underpants and pushed her—really quite hard now and nicely sized—dick to the left along the crease at the top of her leg. Now that I had my hand on her, I wanted to go on like that.  
  
I said, “if you're going to be walking a lot, this can get awkward because you'll still be rubbing it, kind of like this, see." I went up and down the silky, hard blue shaft, making sure the tip stroked the fabric.  
  
I could see just a flash of it beyond where my wrist held the waistband of Carol’s underpants away from her body. The blue was darkening and looked lovely against my green skin.  
  
I wanted to make her come so much I was shaking. Carol's eyes were half-closed, lips parted.  
  
“Jen, Darlin’, you’re making her drip a little,” Marie said. She rubbed the tip of one finger on the outside of the fabric, where a wet spot turned the material from tan to blue. She lifted her index finger, tinged slightly blue. “So clearly that's not a good solution. This sure is lovely color."  
  
"It's for marking," Carol said in a strained tone.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes. Configuration two is mainly for marking."  
  
"Well you sure marked me the other day,” Marie said.  
  
Carol moaned slightly and clamped her teeth shut. Marie's face was pure mischief. She put her hand back on the outside of Carol’s underpants, her fingers over mine, and stroked my hand.  
  
“Why don’t you put her back at twelve o’clock,” Marie suggested. “I think that’s the safest for her.”  
  
“Like this?” I asked, positioning Carol upwards with a lot of stroking to make sure she was really in the right place before I took my hand away.  
  
Marie said, “My you do get bigger, don't you. I don't think you quite fit in your briefs." She tugged up on the waistband which I'm sure dragged tight fabric over Carol's sensitive areas. And then, to make it better, she added, "There might be a little problem with twelve o'clock, but I don't know if it applies to you."  
  
On the outside of the fabric, Marie ran her fingertips up the rigid underside of Carol's shaft, then she did it again lightly with her fingernails and watched Carol shudder.  
  
"Some people are real sensitive on the underside. Along here. You feel this, Sugar?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"You more sensitive here than on the top?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Now, this could be important. Are you more sensitive here?" Marie made little circles with her fingertips and nails at the base, then moved up closer to the tip. "Or here?"  
  
I’d felt her nails plenty of times, thick with polish, tracing patterns on my shoulders, collar bones, inner thighs. They were maddening in all the best ways. I couldn’t imagine how it felt to have that sensation on the underside of Carol’s dick. How she wasn’t coming already, I had no idea. Though she did release a second heavy drop of that thick blue liquid. It slid to the side and rolled down her shaft.  
  
Carol squirmed, but her voice was steady as she answered, "The second.”  
  
"Very good. Here?" Marie stroked where she had been and then moved up to the tip itself. "Or here?"  
  
"Second, again."  
  
"So you get more sensitive as we go up. One issue with that might be the seam of the waistband, it could rub you here." She pressed the seam into Carol, jiggling it lightly.  
  
For a while, Carol's dick hadn't been getting longer, only thicker. It had added maybe two inches from its soft form and then just got thicker and thicker, but now as Marie played around the tip, it grew up, getting a bit longer, maybe a half inch at most, but enough to push that blue tip past the waistband so it stuck out.  
  
"Oh dear," Marie said. "What are we going to do about this?” As she asked, another drop of blue pushed out, hung at the top. Marie caught it with her finger. “Marking?” she mused and drew the blue in a line down my forearm. “That does look good.”  
  
“What kind of marking?” I asked. “I don’t suddenly belong to you now, do I?”  
  
“More like … tribe,” Carol said.  
  
“Good. Now, back to the problem at hand. I’m thinking if you do get this hard, the real solution is just to jerk off and be done with it. Does it work that way for Kree?”  
  
“Close enough,” Carol said. And then, because she didn’t get to be Captain Danvers without a whole lot of clevereness, she added,  “But what if I don’t know how?”  
  
Of course she knew how, or could figure it out. You don’t defend Earth from dozens of different alien threats and not know how to jerk yourself off. But that wasn’t the point.  
  
“As I recall, it goes something like this,” I said. I moved around to where I could loop my left arm around Marie and reach down the front of Carol with my right hand.  
  
“Help me with those briefs?” I asked Marie, who pushed them down.  
  
That thick shaft, going from bright blue to a darker blue purple, stood very much at attention. I wrapped my hand around it, feeling the weight and pulsing blood, the desire.  
  
“We’re going to need some lube,” I said. "And you should probably take off your skirt because this could get messy."  
  
Marie deftly stepped out of her cute skirt and tossed it far enough to be out of splatter range. She snared the lube off the bedside table, tipped it sideways. I held out my hand and she squirted it onto my palm. Grinning, I stuck my hand down the front of Marie’s panties. She gasped, pressed into me, closed her eyes. I rubbed my hand all around Marie’s clit, getting her very wet, while Carol watch hungrily.  
  
I took my hand away and said, “Oops, I ran out of lube.”  
  
Marie managed to get more into my hand, though she was leaning hard on me now, her knees gone to spaghetti noodles.  
  
I lubed Carol thoroughly, all the way to the base, all the way to the tip. As I played around the tip, I felt a trickle of liquid into my fingers. Not coming yet, and not quite like a human guy, her Kree dick seemed to like leaking out these little spurts ahead of time. Made sense for marking.  
  
My hand had less lube on it, but more blue. I painted that blue down the front of Marie’s panties, up and down, outlining her clit, made easy by how wet she was inside those panties. Then back to Carol’s dick, stroking until she dribbled into my fingers and I could continue my painting project.  
  
Carol had her hands clasped behind her, really the most adorable pose, chest heaving, shirt open to show her toned belly and the inner curves of her breasts. I don’t think she could’ve taken her eyes off Marie as I painted her clit with all that blue.  
  
I really needed both hands for this, but I was holding Marie up as much as her legs were. I moved around behind Marie and slid my left hand into her panties. She not only leaned her weight on me, but was rubbing her ass deliciously against me. I set my hips just off-center enough to fully appreciate that.  
  
Carol stepped forward so I could reach her, hands still behind her back like a good soldier, but her legs were shaking. I wrapped my hand around her shaft and stroked. More blue dribbled out and I couldn’t catch it, but Marie did. She rubbed some on my wrist and a slender streak up Carol’s abs.  
  
With a groan, Carol thrust into my hand, hips meeting my downstroke.  
  
“Help me out, Captain,” I said. “And push Marie’s panties down.”  
  
I don’t know how Carol managed to hold out as long as she had, but as soon as her fingers touched those panties, she started coming. Her dick pulsed out a thick stream of blue. Marie’s fingers went over hers, both of them pushing that fabric out of the way so I could guide that hot, heavy liquid right over Marie’s clit.  
  
I lifted her clit with my other hand, rubbing her against Carol and she was coming too. Carol fell more than stepped into Marie and put her arms around both of us. Marie was coming into my fingers, the way I liked, that hot rush of release pulsing over my skin. Losing myself in that, feel of wet “yes” and “yes,” I barely realized she’d replaced my hand on Carol’s shaft with hers.  
  
Marie said, “Oh Sugar,” and Carol full-on lost it, thrusting and pumping against her while Marie milked more of that unearthly blue out of her and onto both of us. She stroked and pressed beyond what I thought Carol could take, but she just moaned and shivered and kept pumping out little dribbles of blue, until they were drops and then intermittent, Marie forced out every last little drop.  
  
Was it the shudder Carol made at the end? The way my palm had been filled with Marie’s cum and Carol’s? Rubbing against Marie’s ass while Carol thrust against her? A low, desperate moan came out of me, almost more Hulk than Jen.  
  
“Get Jen,” Marie said and they were on either side, guiding me back to the bed.  
  
Marie knelt and put her mouth on my clit through my pants—and it was so hard and sore and needy that I felt beyond naked. And Carol got onto the bed by my head, tore off my shirt and bra, knelt on my shoulders and put two very wet, very blue hands on my breasts.  
  
Between the two of them, they were almost strong enough to keep me from breaking anything as I came through my panties and pants into Marie’s mouth.


End file.
